ephemeral love
by RotorTaxi
Summary: "But you can't help it, you know? You're weak and idiotic and utterly, helplessly in love with her." Yuzu/Mei. Ch.35 SPOILERS.


**disclaimer:** CITRUS characters © SABUROUTA

 **a/n:** no spoilers were allowed in the summary, so here's the real one — this takes place after chapter 35. Maybe around 37 or so, idk. LEGIT MAJOR SPOILERS. Basically this will happen after they break up because Sabu told me so telepathically.

The proper title should be

"Possessive Yuzu Be Topping Sub AF Mei in the Public but She's Okay With It"

or "Foreplay Until Everyone's Balls Turn Blue"

... or maybe even "Just Fuck Already"

* * *

(Maybe) Chapter 37 _  
_— _ephemeral love_ —

* * *

 _Don't._

Don't look at her.

"Hey. It's the president," Harumi says, nonchalant as she always is.

You instinctively turn away—down at the math textbook in front of you, at your scattered stationery on the desk, at your pink nails. You look at _anything_ but Mei.

But then it hits you. Harumi still doesn't know. She doesn't know about the two of you. At least, not the details. _God damn it_ you need to act natural around her. So you tilt your head back up to acknowledge the fact that Mei— _oh god—_ in her usual school attire is standing there, staring at you and _only_ you.

"Yuzu."

How she manages to look more intimidating than anyone in the same school uniform would always remain a mystery, but for now, you simply can't stand looking into those sharp, violet eyes. Because every time you make eye contact, her gaze just pierces into your soul.

"What," you finally manage to grunt in response. But the voice in your head keeps chanting— _act naturally, act naturally._ And so you reluctantly add, "… Mei?"

A pause. The heated awkwardness hanging in the thick air is practically burning you, making you bead sweat.

"Come home with me."

Her monotonous voice _unnerves_ you. "Why?"

"The school is closing soon," she says, almost too matter-of-factly.

This is the part about her that pisses you off the most. Your fists clench and you grit your teeth. "Why should I listen to you?" You say before you can stop yourself. The words are just spilling out—you can't seem to stop them. You hate it when you're so emotional. You hate it when your palms get all damp and your eyes get hot and your nose burns and your body is probably shaking by now and your heart is straining so bad it hurts it hurts _it hurts—_

"Yuzucchi,"

A hand rests on your shoulder and you suddenly remember that Harumi is still around. Right. You two were studying together. But it's all an excuse. There's nothing to study for.

"You alright?" Harumi asks.

Man, your friend's looking at you with such kind eyes, so full of concern, so gentle.

And it just hurts so much more, because you want _someone else_ to look at you like this. Your eyes get hotter and your vision turns blurry.

Harumi seems to notice right away, because she just stands up and takes your hand. "I'll help you pack up. Let's go to my place." And she does that, just before you faintly hear her saying goodbye to Mei, but you don't really know. You don't want to hear anything. You just want to shut yourself out. You don't want _anything_ to do with Mei right now. Or any time soon, for that matter.

Harumi stuffs your things into your bag and swings it over her shoulder, all the while holding onto her own suitcase _and_ holding onto your hand. The two of you walk by Mei and _the nerve of her—_

Another hand grabs you by the forearm.

"Taniguchi-san,"

 _Oh no, please._

"As this is a family matter, it does not concern you," Mei states. "Please leave Yuzu in my care."

 _Of course_ Harumi wouldn't back down. It's just in her nature to be so caring, and it genuinely makes you feel bad—because as close as you are, you have yet to tell her what's going on. Leaving her in the dark like this doesn't feel right, but… _you can't,_ you tell yourself. _You just can't._ There's no way.

And then she just steps up to Mei and doesn't let go of you as she speaks, authoritative and all.

She's starting to become a little like her sister, you think.

"With all due respect, president," Harumi says as politely as she can, "Yuzucchi doesn't look like she's comfortable going with you. So maybe you should consider leaving her in _my_ care?"

Mei's expression does not change. Her grip on your arm doesn't loosen either. In fact, it becomes tighter, and you can't help but to feel a strange surge of… _what is it—_ thrill? _Frenzy?—_ rush through your veins. It's a hot, heart-throbbing sensation that makes your chest burn.

"Harumin," you finally speak up.

Your friend directs all of her attention towards you. The amount of concern pouring from her gaze pains you. And you feel bad, without a doubt, because you know Harumi is looking out for you. She's always considering your best interests. True, she doesn't know what's going on between you and Mei, but she's trying to understand without stepping over the line. Yet you're keeping secrets— _some friend you are—_ and you hate yourself for it.

You hate yourself even more when you attempt to draw your hand away from hers. "Thank you," you say pathetically.

"Yuzucchi…?"

You fake a smile. "It's fine. I'll be okay."

That concerned expression on her isn't going away. She pauses, and then directs her attention to Mei. Harumi is not very observant, but she isn't stupid. And you know that she understands there is an unspeakable tension between you and Mei that desperately needs to be resolved.

Another pause. And then, "You're… sure?" she finally asks.

Nodding lightly, you try your hardest to prolong your smile. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

She stares at you for several more, long moments. "You're positive you're okay?"

You nod again, though you're pretty sure it looks as unconvincing as it feels.

Harumi hesitates. "Fine," she hands you your bag. You see her flex her jaw before continuing, "Call me." And you swear that she's giving Mei a death glare before finally walking away.

 _Oh Harumin._ She's so protective of you it's kind of cute. Your small smile becomes a bit more genuine.

"Yuzu."

Another instinct. It's Mei's voice. It's her _stupid,_ dull, soft voice. You swing your arm away, more aggressively than you wanted to, but she's no longer touching you, so _whatever_. You refuse to turn around to look at her. You refuse to have _anything_ to do with her.

Mei sighs. That's all she ever does. _Sigh._

And then she _dares_ to speak up, "You're not even studying. Why are you here?"

It's a question that has a relatively easy answer, which you're sure Mei herself knows, but no. _No, Yuzu._ You are not speaking to her. Don't answer her. Don't do it.

"Let's go home." She continues, and you can tell that the stoic step-sister of yours is actually _trying._ As in, trying to make conversation. But _fuck_ it, you're not having any of it.

You don't feel sorry for her. You don't. No, you don't. No. _No._

"Yuzu—"

"Shut up," you mutter in a weak voice, but it was enough to cut her off. You think you can actually feel her jump a little. Well, you certainly took her by surprise. Somehow, that gives you the courage to look at her.

Wait. What courage? Why are you even scared to begin with? You're not the one at fault.

You don't know. You don't know what these emotions are, but before you can comprehend anything, you see Mei, looking utterly defeated. Lost. Confused. _Petrified_.

And somehow, seeing her like this makes you feel satisfied. Like, it eases you. It doesn't necessarily make you feel happier— _no,_ you feel nothing but anger. You're livid. You're still pissed off at her for not telling you the truth sooner, but just seeing her like this makes you feel strangely sated. Makes you filled. Bursting _—with so many things to say._

That's why you continue. Your words are vomit. "I don't want anything to do with you. Your excuses, your _lack_ of excuses. Your honesty, and your _dishonesty—_ " you just can't seem to stop, _"—_ I don't want anything. I don't want anything more from you."

Her expression is unchanging.

Why isn't she reacting? Why won't she _fucking react_? You want to hurt her. You want her to _hurt,_ because that's all you've been feeling for the past few weeks. Because your fists are clenched so hard you swear your knuckles are white.

"Exactly what am I to you…?" This last statement comes out through your gritted teeth. You know it's barely audible, but you're still expecting an answer.

But of course she doesn't give you one. She's just so full of disappointment.

You're done. There's no point. This love (if you can even call it that) you two shared was a failure from the start. You should have known. Actually, you knew, but you ventured into it anyway, being the dumb teenager that you are.

"Just… whatever," you mutter. "I'm going home on my own."

And just as you walk by her, she takes your hand. It's gentle, _lifeless_. Her grip immediately loosens—almost like she realizes that what she's doing is wrong—but her fingers cling onto the cuff of your sleeve. She knows this is wrong, but she can't let go.

You seem to feel this, you _know_ this, because this time, you don't pull away. Time and again, you tell yourself not to give in to your hormonal, angsty teenage emotions, but you really can't help it. You're only human. So you turn to look at her.

Well, it's safe to say that you've never intended for this to happen.

"Mei…"

Tears are streaming down her cheeks and you— _oh no, what are you doing?—_ you're walking forward. You can't breathe when you see her like this. You come closer, _closer._ She's taller than you. More beautiful, smarter, more _perfect_ than you ever can be. But at this moment, as you hold her delicately in your arms, you've never felt more confident.

And when she returns the embrace with her weak, _lifeless_ arms, you have this inexplicable desire to protect her, shield her from everything that's making her feel this way.

The thought of said _everything_ that is making you feel the same way.

"Yuzu…" she tries again.

You don't answer. But every time her whispery voice touches your eardrums you feel your heart _throb in pain._

"… I don't know what to do."

 _Oh god,_ please don't speak like this. When she's like this… when she sounds so weak and vulnerable and helpless, you just…

"I'm sorry."

Your eyes widen.

"…"

Sorry?

She's _sorry_?

"Y-you're…"

"For everything. Yuzu, I—"

Rage washes over the entirety of your body and you feel possessed by some outer, alien force. Like you're out of control. _You can't control._ You push her forward. Your bag drops onto the carpeted floor with a _thud_ and you back Mei up until she hits the bookshelf. She winces slightly at your rare, aggressive side, and that slightest sound triggers you _more_. It brings out this strange, _destructive_ side in you.

"It's too late for that, now, isn't it?" You begin, your voice grinding. "Couldn't you have spared me from _all of this_ from the start?" Your arms wrapped around her waist move higher to her shoulder blades, "So I wouldn't have to be such a _wreck_ right now?" Your fingers dig into her flesh through her clothes. "Why…"

When you pull away, the sight of a flushed, _broken_ Mei greets you and an involuntary sob escapes your throat. Her usual, piercing sharp eyes no longer scare you. They're sparkling. They're beautiful, and it's tragic.

 _She's so beautiful—_

"… why did it have to be you?"

— _and you can't take it anymore._

"Yuzu—"

You don't let her finish. Your lips are against hers and _of course_ she resists. But you have her pinned against the wall, using your weight to hold her down. The books rattle on the shelf—the entire damn thing threatens to fall over, but quite frankly, you don't care. You can't hold back anymore. This frenzied desire that has been bubbling inside your chest ever since the two of you started dating— _no,_ ever since she kissed you on the first day—is _spilling._

You need this, and you know it's probably the same for Mei.

Because she's struggling. She's struggling but she's so clearly not even giving any effort to fight back. _See_? Her arms that were previously trying to push you away are now wrapped around your neck. You feel her fingers comb through your hair as her other hand strokes at your nape, tugging lightly at the soft hairs. She's encouraging you. She wants this.

So you deepen the kiss, pushing your tongue in so hard that the back of Mei's head hits the shelf, again and again.

Yet she doesn't seem to mind. Because she's just holding you closer, reciprocating the kiss and she tilts her head. She's letting you do this, completely submitting herself to you—it's like she's trying to compensate for… _for—_

"Yuzu, I…" Mei tries. She pulls back, away from your lips and turns to the side, desperately gasping for air, "I need—"

"Shut up," you say for the second time. You bury your face into her neck and then you just _bite_ into her skin. You don't care if you're drawing blood. You don't care if she's squealing in pain. You don't even care if someone walks by, catching the two of you doing something so scandalous in the school library.

In fact, some sick, twisted part of you wants someone to walk by.

You want someone to see this. To see you claiming Mei for your own, because she's—

" _Mine,"_ you grunt into her ear, your hot breath fanning against her skin. Mei's chest is heaving against yours and the feeling of your breasts pressed so closely thrills you. Then you suddenly remember that she is particularly sensitive at the ears, and that she is mere putty when you so much as _come close_ to that certain spot. So you go on, speaking against her skin, "I'm not letting some _stranger_ touch you like this." Your hands wander to the hem of her vest. You're so overwhelmed with this unadulterated need to _ruin_ her that you just rip it open, sending buttons flying. You do the same to her shirt. Only, you remember that you don't want Mei to go home looking like she's been completely violated—

(Because how are you going to explain to mom? _Hey, I'm home, mom. I fucked Mei in the school library, which explains why her clothes are ripped—)_

—so you haphazardly tug at that stupid, pretentious black tie, loosening it together with the collar of her shirt.

"Stop… no more, we're at school—"

You almost laughed to her ridiculously delayed comment, because you are already in the process of unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. But then the sight of her white, laced bra distracts you briefly. And although you've seen her naked before, there's just something ironically profound about the _student council president_ looking so improper _at school_ that turns you on.

"Then push me away," you demand, eyes darting up to glare straight at her. "Tell me you don't want this."

Her eyes widen for a hint of a second. She's frozen in place—very evidently struggling with her internal thoughts.

"Tell me," you repeat, moving into her ear again, "And I'll stop."

She holds her tongue, chest still rising and falling heavily against your own. You pull back, anticipating for her answer, and your eyes lock. Her cheeks are flushed _crimson._ She is _so hot._ And you don't mean that in the temperature way. You mean it in the way that you want to _fuck her._

Oh, how the tides have turned. Back then, she was the one who made you feel all helpless and pathetic. Granted, she told you that she did it to shut you up _._ She had no intention to fuck you _,_ but right now, at this moment, the passion is _brimming_. Now, you're the one invoking this authority upon her—and you're going to abuse it. _Abuse her._

"No one else can see you like this but me," you grunt as your nails rake over the smoothness of her waist.

"Yuzu…" the pitch of her voice rises. Mei throws her head back and you take the opportunity to kiss along her jawline. "I-I…"

"What," your voice is raspy between the kisses, "What do you possibly have to say to me?" Your hands travel up her bareback, and you stop at the hook of her bra.

Mei grips at your elbows. You feel her blunt nails through the thin material of your shirt. Take note, she still has her head thrown back because she seems to enjoy the feeling of you leaving butterfly kisses along her neck. You pay extra attention to the bite marks you've left earlier, pecking them tenderly just before sucking _hard._

" _Yuzu…!_ " your name comes out in a gasp, and she throws a hand to cover her mouth.

 _Ah, shit._ Somebody probably heard that. You're pretty sure, because her voice practically echoed, _resounded_ in this god damn library.

"Please," but she starts again, completely ignoring what just happened. Her voice is pointlessly stifled by her palm, "I have to tell you. If I don't, I… I—"

"You _what?"_ You hear yourself say, quite impatiently, mind you. "Are you going to cry until you pass out? And when you open your eyes again, all you feel—all you _know_ is how you're useless, pathetic, and _unwanted?_ Wait, no, no…" you fake a chuckle, and the more you invest yourself into this façade, the more your chest burns. "Knowing you, you'll just end up feeling _nothing._ "

This time, you actually see her expression physically twisting in pain.

And although that look on her hurts you— _it hits you like a truck_ , you've never felt more alive.

"So it doesn't matter what you want to tell me. I don't want to hear it." In a flash, you unhook her bra. The loosened undergarment dangles awkwardly inside her clothes and this time, you _claw_ at her, trailing to her waist and your nails dig into her flesh. Mei squeals _oh-so-erotically_ to the stinging pain and _that was the cutest sound ever._

You want to hear it again.

Because the sounds she makes fuel you like adrenaline. It's always been like that. Nothing else in the world can make you feel more powerful. You take advantage of this newfound strength, prying her legs apart by slipping your thigh in between. You grab onto her hips, once again digging your fingers into her protruding bones there to lock her in place.

You can't really describe it, but the moment your bare thigh comes in contact with her _damp_ and _heated_ panties, you feel a rush of exhilaration. Like you've finally done something right in your life. The fact that you're capable of getting Mei _wet_ sends electric sparks down your spine.

Slightly, just _slightly,_ you drag your thigh along her centre, and the reaction—

" _Oh god, Yuzu…"_

—it isn't like anything you've expected. It's nothing like the times you've experienced with… well, _anyone._ Like, you've never thought you would be the one in this position. The way Mei always teases you, how she always makes you feel so weak at the knees, and the way she exerts so much authority just brainwashed you into believing that you would never be the one to do this. To her. To _Mei._

Her arms move to loop around your neck, and you are driven to pin her harder against the bookshelf, roughly dividing her trembling legs further apart. The two of you are grinding; Mei's moans are out of control, her resolve long abandoned. Her flushed cheeks prompt you to move forward, and you dive into the junction between her neck and shoulder, where you press scorching kisses along her throat.

The bookshelf creaks as you smash into one another and Mei is hot, _so hot._ You grab her rear with both hands to hold her up, rolling yourself into her. Mei whimpers, hips bucking helplessly, and your teeth rake at the sinews on her neck, your tongue searing her flesh as she holds onto your head with her _dear life._

She loses it then, with you swallowing her screams of ecstasy while she thrashes about wildly, hips pressing frenziedly onto your thigh. You just hold her, gently dragging your leg against her as she rides it off, arms unrelenting in their support.

And when she stops moving, when her body stops quivering, you tell yourself to walk away. And you do. You step back, but Mei has yet to snap out of her reverie, let alone regain her strength to hold herself—so she loses balance and falls onto the floor.

You could've caught her. You could've held her close. You could have. Should have. _Would have._

And seeing her like this, so broken, vulnerable, alone, you… your heart just—

"I-I…"

—it just _pounds._ It hammers against your chest so rapidly, to the point that you feel as though it has a life of its own and it's trying to rip out of your ribcage. You have never felt a pain this intense. _So please._ Please don't even look at her, Yuzu. Look away.

"I need to tell you—"

Look away. Don't listen.

"—what I couldn't that night at the cabin,"

 _Don't._

"Yuzu,"

 _Don't. Please, don't._

"I love you, too."

You forget how to breathe. You're biting onto your lower lip so hard you can taste blood. Your eyes are clenched shut because you know that if you open them, you'll just cry. _Again._ That's all you ever do now. _Cry._

But you can't help it, you know? You're weak and idiotic and utterly, _helplessly_ in love with her. Mei makes you a better person. She makes you _try,_ even when there is nothing to try for. These unwanted thoughts overwhelm you; your instincts get the better of you and quite easily, you turn back to look at her. Mei's dishevelled, violated, _abused_ form—from her ripped shirt to her tie and bra, still dangling loosely around her. And those bite marks on her neck. _God,_ you did this. And you can see her legs trembling despite sitting down. You can feel _your own_ leg, damp. Your stomach churns and your shoulders shake.

"Yuzu, I love you." She says it more clearly, more confidently this time.

 _Ah,_ it hurts. Your entire body fucking hurts.

A moment passes. You don't know how long, but it's long enough to let you compile together your next words.

"Well,"

Violet clashes with emerald, her eyes so full of longing and yours _dull_ —

"… isn't that just too bad?"

.  
.

* * *

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
